


Heart On My Sleeve

by Ghostinthehouse



Series: Demon and Angel Professors [14]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Professors, Disabled Crowley (Good Omens), M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-23
Updated: 2019-08-23
Packaged: 2020-09-24 22:48:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20366377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ghostinthehouse/pseuds/Ghostinthehouse
Summary: Crowley's never quite so glad of how his sunglasses give him something to hide behind as he is at times like this.





	Heart On My Sleeve

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Français available: [Professeurs Ange et Démon - 2e arc](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25248397) by [AikaRainbow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AikaRainbow/pseuds/AikaRainbow)

Crowley sets his free hand on the diningroom door. "All right," he sighs. "Time to go on display." He takes a deep breath and holds the door open for Aziraphale. It means he's a half pace behind his husband as they enter, and he can all but feel hundreds of eyes sweeping over him and past him, looking for someone else. He's never quite so glad of how his sunglasses give him something to hide behind as he is at times like this.

Aziraphale responds by pulling out his chair for him, and they take their seats together. He doesn't think the students are quite catching on, yet, and wonders how many little platonic intimacies it will take before they do. This kind of thing really isn't his style, but it is Aziraphale's, and going through with it is one of the ways he can give love back to his beloved. He leans back in his chair, drapes his arm along the back of Aziraphale's chair, and scans the young faces until he spots the boy who's been taking the bets. The boy stares back and Crowley smirks at him until the stare morphs into a mix of shock and delight. Dr Crowley isn't favourite, isn't even close to favourite, which means the bets that are on the favourite are going to more than cover the long odds payout. No harm to anyone, except maybe Gabriel's ego.

He leans in to murmur in Aziraphale's ear, "Oh, look, they're starting to catch on."

Aziraphale rewards him with the softest smile, as if his words were a flirtatious sweet nothing. "Oh, aren't they just," he says. His eyes too are tracking the tide of realisation taking over the faces around them, and his voice holds a thread of warm amusement.

***

From farther down the table, Eve watches them. Opposites attract, she supposes, and she's never seen a couple more opposite than these two. Tall and short, fat and thin, soft and sharp, sunlight and shadow.

Dr Crowley leans in and murmurs something and Dr Fell lights up. She doesn't catch the words, and they don't seem as relaxed or as open as they did on the bench before term started, but they look close, even though they're hardly touching. It's in the way they pass each other things without having to ask. The way they orient on each other even when they aren't looking, dress canes laid together under their chairs. The way they dip in and out of each other's conversations (Dr Fell warm and friendly, Dr Crowley coolly polite and dryly amusing).

When the main course comes, Dr Fell savours every bite. Dr Crowley practically inhales his share and then sits back and watches. Or tries to, because the other students sharing their table have questions, and he's the one without a mouthful of food to hide behind.

"Where did you two even meet?" asks a student.

Dr Fell smiles fondly. "In a garden."

"Really?"

Dr Crowley shrugs. "He was up on the garden wall when I snuck in. I was bored, so I joined him there, and the rest, as they say, is history."

"Why don't you wear a ring?" someone wants to know, staring pointedly at Dr Crowley's deceptively bare hands.

"I'd only have to take it off whenever I handle the plants."

"Why the dark glasses?"

"Eye condition," Dr Crowley says shortly.

Dr Fell says simultaneously, "Don't be rude."

There's a brief exchange of glances between them that softens into mutual fondness so intimate it seems almost rude to intrude and most of the students dive into their arriving desserts instead.

Dr Fell eats both his dessert and Dr Crowley's, and neither complains about it, although when the coffee and crackers emerge, Eve looks up to find Dr Crowley has discreetly slipped out at some point.

By the time everyone's groaning over the bad jokes, he's back, his smile a thinner counterpart to Dr Fell's mirth and no one doubts they're together anymore.


End file.
